


When All Our Secrets Collide

by anything_thats_rock_and_roll



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: But it might be resolved, F/M, Rebelcaptain - Freeform, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, just saying
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-09-16 00:13:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9265271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anything_thats_rock_and_roll/pseuds/anything_thats_rock_and_roll
Summary: When Cassian and Jyn are rescued from Scarif, they have to re-negotiate their relationship in the light of all that's happened. It's a lot harder than Cassian expected.Or, "Cassian likes to think he's noble but really he's just whipped..."





	1. And We Can Work It Out

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first AO3 fic, and the first one I've written in a reeeaaallly long time, and my first Star Wars fic, so wish me luck. The title is taken from the song Touch Me by Leslie, and chapter titles will be taken from the lyrics of the same song.

Cassian returns from the refresher, waiting a minute for his eyes to adjust to the darkness that cloaks the room. He rolls his eyes when he sees Jyn lying in the bed. In his absence, she’s curled in on herself, her knees pulled tight to her chest and her head tucked down. He stands for a moment, wondering whether he should try to fit himself into the narrow space between her back and the edge of the bed or lie down clear on the other side of her. Finally, he settles down as quietly as he can, lying on his back with his hands behind his head, her feet gently jabbing him in the side. He doesn’t have to look over at her sleeping face to know exactly what she looks like. He can see in his mind a hundred other nights that had gone just like this. He can see her full lips, the way her eyelashes settled against her cheek, her face made peaceful with her fiery, flashing eyes closed.

He shifts in the bed as he lets himself reflect. Nearly a year has passed since the events on Scarif, and he still isn’t quite sure where they stand. For the first three months, they hadn’t even seen each other. It was too easy not to: first they were confined to their rooms in the sickbay, countless hours spent in recovery. Later, when he had returned to duty, there were missions to keep him occupied, and she was busy with training. He had heard that much, even then. She had decided to enlist in the Alliance. She was here for good.

If he was honest with himself though, it wasn’t just the busy schedule that kept him away. He needed time to sort through it all. He needed to find the courage to face her. Courage wasn’t something Cassian regularly found himself in short supply of, but then again, nothing about this situation was regular. It is easy to hold someone when you’re both dying. It’s much harder to face them again when you don’t.

The first time he saw her again, it was an accident. He was stocking up on weapons for yet another mission and she was on blaster-cleaning duty. He didn’t see her at all until he had breezed through the Armory door and into the room, nearly colliding with her small form. They had stood, speechless, as they stared at each other.

“I’ll just… grab this then,” he muttered as he gestured towards a blaster. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her reflexively turn toward him as he reached for it, the corner of his shirt riding up at his hip. She hastily turned away and refocused on the blaster in several pieces in front of her as he strode past her to grab a couple of grenades. It gave him a chance to look at her, for which he was grateful. She looked healthy and whole, if tired and confused. But when he caught himself tracing the contours of her profile, he turned on his heel and started walking. He could feel her eyes burning into his back as he left. Just as he reached the door, she called out in a small voice, “Good luck. With the mission.” He turned and nodded, eyes searching hers. Then he walked out.

It was another two months before Cassian plucked up the courage to seek her out. Flying home from a particularly close call, the hint of a blaster burn on his bicep, all he could see was her face. He could feel her arms around him as they waited for the shockwave on Scarif, and he didn’t want to let her go. There was no point in being rescued, he thought, if he didn’t take advantage of it. There was nothing to fight for- he used to fight for the Alliance, but now, he realized, he was fighting for her. For a chance at a life with her.

The minute his ship had touched onto the ground, he left the newly re-downloaded version of K-2 to do the post-flight maintenance check and stormed toward the living quarters. He asked a droid in the hallway for the location of Jyn’s room, and it wasn’t until he banged on the door that he realized it was past midnight. It was a long flight from Courosant back to Yavin IV, even at hyperspeed. He wondered briefly if he had made a mistake, showing up here so late.  
He needn’t have worried- about that at least. Jyn looked wide-awake and just a little bit angry as she opened the door. She looked a lot more angry, though, when she realized who stood there.

“About damn time,” she said. Cassian was momentarily lost for words. Seeing her again, coupled with the fact that he really didn’t know how to respond, left him mute. His heart hurt, in the best possible way, as he took in her messy braid and the face that had plagued his mind for five months. “Well don’t just stand there,” she said a little more generously, “I suppose you’d better come in.”

He had stumbled across the threshold, still struck by the sight of her. He hadn’t really thought about what to do when he got there.

“Jyn,” he started. He paused for a moment as he searched for what to follow it with. Her eyes flashed as she looked up at him. “How ar-”

“Where the hell have you been?” she flung at him. Well, that took care of finding something to say. The corner of his mouth quirked up in the ghost of a smile as he looked at her. Always had to make the first move, he thought.

Jyn did not take kindly to being laughed at, it turned out. She mistook the smile for mockery and shot him a withering glare.

“I didn’t know what to do,” he said simply, “I thought it was easier, not to see you. Turns out, it’s even harder staying away.”

“So you were just going to abandon me? If it had been easy, I mean.” Too late, he realized how she would hear that sentence. Still, he thought it was a low blow. If anyone knew the difference right thing and the easy thing, it was him.

“No. I didn’t know how I felt. I didn’t know what you would want.” That wasn’t technically true, he thought. He knew exactly how he felt. He just didn’t know how to handle it. She opened her mouth, a stormy look on her face, but he spoke before she had the chance. “It’s not like you came looking for me, either.”

“How could I?” Her eyes nearly bugged out of her head. “After you ignored me in the Armory?”

“Ignored you? I couldn’t ignore you if I tried. It was everything I could do not to-” he paused. He had been about to say, “kiss you,” but backed out at the last second.

“Not to what? Turn around and walk straight back out? Come back another time or better yet, send a droid, just to make sure you don’t run into me?” Cassian could see in her eyes that she was more hurt than angry, but he couldn’t bring himself to care about the distinction just then.

“You’re not the only person who hurts, Jyn Erso,” he said, in a cold, cutting voice.

“I wouldn’t know. I. Haven’t. Seen You.” Without realizing it, they had moved towards each other as they fought. Cassian was suddenly very aware of her, just a few inches away. He could see her flushed cheeks and bright eyes. He could see the tension coiled in her body, how she seemed electric, like a spring with too much pressure on it. He could feel his heart beating in his chest, just a touch too fast, and the air dancing across every inch of his hot skin.

He looked down at her as she unconsciously tilted her head up toward him, and then he took a step back. He was breathless, as if he had just run several miles. As if she’d stolen the air right out of his chest.

“I’m sorry. Is that what you want me to say?” he asked quietly.

“I want you to mean it,” she shot back.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry about a lot of things. I’m sorry that you felt abandoned. I’m sorry that it took a nuclear explosion for me to realize how I felt. I’m sorry that our friends died on Scarif. Part of me is sorry that we have to face this at all, that we didn’t just die on that beach. But a bigger part of me is glad you’re alive, and sorry that I’m standing here fighting with you, that I’ve been sleeping alone for the last five months.”

There was a moment of stunned silence. Cassian’s internal organs twisted as he realized what he had said, but he refused to take it back. Her face remained obstinately unchanged, but he could see things shifting in her eyes. The silence dragged on. Just as he decided that it was probably time for him to leave, she took a small step forward, lifted herself up on her toes, and fitted her mouth gently to his. No more than a second later, she stepped back, looking up at him from under her lashes.

“Are you still sorry we made it off Scarif?”

Instead of answering, he kissed her again, pulling her to his body and running his hands down her sides. There was nothing gentle about this kiss. She pushed back against him, reaching her hands up and tugging at his hair. As she did so, she opened her mouth to bite his lip, and he took the opportunity to slide his tongue into her mouth. His hands roamed across her body, as if to make sure she was really there. She fought his tongue with her own, more like a battle than a kiss. When they broke apart, he was panting. He had never felt so alive- not piloting a starfighter, or running through a snow storm as a child, not even facing the destruction on Scarif. Every sense was on high alert, and he could feel the need coursing through his body. He noted with satisfaction that Jyn’s hands were trembling, her mouth still slightly open.

“No, Jyn, I’m not.”

“Will you stay here tonight?” He knew instantly that she didn’t mean anything more than what she had said. In reply, Cassian took hold of her outstretched hand and followed her to the bed. They maneuvered around each other somewhat awkwardly, trying to find their balance on the small Alliance-issued bed. Divorced from the freedom of imminent death, they weren’t quite as comfortable with one another. Despite having held her on the beach, there was still something foreign about her weight settled across his chest. Cassian wrapped an arm around her and motioned for the lights to dim even more. Slowly, Jyn’s breathing evened and she fell asleep. It took far longer for Cassian to follow.

Nearly every night for the last six months, they had found themselves in that same position. Most nights, Cassian lay awake in his own bed until the loneliness became too overwhelming, and then he stole through the silent hallways to Jyn’s assigned living quarters. Sometimes, woken by a nightmare or otherwise distressed, Jyn would show up at his door, fragile-looking and hesitant. When that happened, he followed wordlessly, locking the door behind him and knowing he wouldn’t be back till morning.

They really didn’t do anything but sleep. Sometimes he awoke to her shaking and mumbling, trapped in a nightmare. Cassian would wrap his arms around her, holding her tightly to his chest, stroking her hair and whispering to her in the language of his homeworld. Other times he awoke from his own nightmares to find Jyn clinging to him, her lips pressed to his forehead. Occasionally, they both slept through the night. More frequently, he lay awake for hours, restless but comforted by her warm weight in the bed beside him.

This insomnia was a new thing. Cassian had always prided himself on being able to sleep anywhere, anytime. Before her, it had been easy to push some thoughts to the back of his head, resting easily out of sight of the things that would haunt him. But Jyn acted as a mirror, opening the floodgates to things he’d have rather left untouched. After watching her mourn her father on Eadu he’d had terrible nightmares for a week, forced to relive the ransacking of his village and the death of his parents night after night. In the sickbay, after Scarif, he’d lain awake for hours thinking about almost-dying with Jyn, and woke up from twisted nightmares with her name on his lips. He hadn’t had anything to lose in so long.

He shakes off his reverie and smiles faintly as Jyn shifts in her sleep, uncurling slightly. She pushes her legs down against his own, one arm twisted under her, placing one hand against his chest. Glancing at the sky, he figures it’s about two hours before dawn. Not much point in trying to sleep now, but he rests his cheek against the top of Jyn’s head and closes his eyes anyway.

When he awakens, he is immediately aware of her hot, damp breath against his throat, and a … situation beneath the thin sheets. He grimaces, shifting uncomfortably, trying to ease his way out of the bed without waking Jyn. This isn’t the first time such a thing had happened to him since he’d started spending most nights in Jyn’s room, but he never gets used to it. He is sure she must have noticed, one time or another, but neither had ever acknowledged it. She must know, he thinks helplessly, that he… that… if she wanted… As he disentangles himself from the blankets and Jyn’s scattered limbs, he tries to still any thought of her. If she knew, as she must, how much he wanted her, and she still hadn’t made any move, then she must not reciprocate his feelings. And no matter what, what she wanted came first. If she harbored no secret affection for him, then he would continue to hold her chastely as she slept, and take care of his business alone. Though they had come close several times, there had been no repeats of their kiss that first night in her room. Every time he held her, every time he stroked her hair as she trembled in the throes of a nightmare, every time he woke up with her lips on his forehead, he had to clench his hands into fists at his sides to stop himself from pressing her against the nearest wall and ravaging her with his mouth.

When Cassian returns from the ‘fresher for the second time that morning, he finds his eyes drawn to her just as they were the first time. This time, however, Jyn is awake. She stretches her arms above her head and looked up at him, her eyes burning with intensity despite the early hour. They look at each other for a moment, neither wanting to speak first. They have always related more comfortably in the stillness of the night, protected from the necessity of words by darkness and touch. Even a year later, it’s still hard for Cassian to look her straight in the face in the light of day. Finally, Jyn breaks the silence.

“Why did you go?” He lurches a little at that, unsure how to respond. He briefly wonders why she had asked such an obvious question (he had just walked out of the ‘fresher, there were plenty of reasonable explanations that came to mind), but then he notices the way her bottom lip jutts out ever so slightly, the way her nostrils flare as she exhaled, and the slight sheen across her clear green eyes. Her voice has an uncharacteristic waver to it, a nearly undetectable note of neediness that contradicts her usually aggressively independent demeanor. She must have been having a nightmare, and startled awake to an empty bed. He chides himself for not being more attentive. Of course, he had been rather preoccupied.

“I had to … take care of something,” Cassian mutters. He feels his cheeks heat up and glances away to the ground, but she doesn’t seem to notice. Shaking off the residual embarrassment, he crosses the room in several long strides and sits back down on the bed. “But I’m back now. That’s what matters,” he finishes, taking her hand. He wordlessly rubs slow circles across her knuckles until her breathing evens back out.


	2. Collision

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go! More fireworks, but no smut (yet). I wanted this chapter to help show that Jyn is a person in her own right, not just someone Cassian thinks he needs to protect.

When Cassian walks into the command room a week later, the first thing he sees is Jyn. The first thing he sees is always Jyn. She’s fidgeting in the same chair where he first saw her over a year ago, glaring up at the members of the Council just like she was then. He leans against a wall, trying his best to stay unnoticed in the shadows. The Rebellion turned him into a spy, after all. Nothing to say he can’t spy on them, too.

“Sergeant Erso, you must understand the stakes of the situation. Every day that goes by without our finding the plans you transmitted, the closer they are to being lost forever. We must contemplate an attack with or without those plans, and to do that, we need as much information as possible.” Bail Organa is trying, and failing, to mask the frustration in his voice.

“We’re just asking you to try to remember,” Mon Mothma says, more gently. “Anything at all could be of use. What did the plans look like? Could you tell where we might find the weakness?” Jyn shoots them a look that quite plainly reads, ‘You are all fucking morons.’

“You’d do well to learn to mask your emotions a little more, Sergeant, if you want to have a future in the Rebellion,” General Draven suggests sourly.

“I’ve told you already. I only saw the plans for a minute before they were transmitted. I don’t remember anything, let alone some tiny potential weakness,” Jyn spits out.

“Do the lives lost on Scarif mean nothing to you? Just because you made it out, do you think their sacrifice insignificant? If we don’t find that weakness and exploit it soon, we are all as good as dead.”

Cassian sees the murderous look on Jyn’s face and steps out of the shadows before she can say anything stupid.

“Senator Mothma, General Draven, Senator Organa,” he nods at each of them in turn.

“Captain Andor, I believe you were summoned for duty over 30 minutes ago.”

“My apologies, sir. I was … delayed.”

“Well, you’re here now. Have a seat. We hope you may prove more effective at stimulating Sergeant Erso’s memory than we have been. She seems to be having trouble remembering anything about the Death Star plans.” General Draven says this with the tone of someone who is choosing his words carefully.

Cassian’s stomach drops as he realizes why he has been called here. His status as a Captain and his background as an intelligence officer make him their first call for interrogations, and his presence on Scarif will allow him to judge the validity of Jyn’s claims. He feels the rank on his jacket burning a hole in his chest as he looks at Jyn. There can be no softness in him right now. Formality will have to prevail. He tries to recall their first meeting, how he treated her then. His heart twinges as he remembers how he saw her then: nothing but a thief and a troublemaker, loyal to whichever side she found convenient.

“Sergeant Erso, what do you remember seeing in the plans?”

“As I just told the Council, _Captain_ Andor, I don’t remember any details. It’s been a rather long time.” He inhales and looks at the ceiling, silently pleading with her to play along. He can hear the way she spits out his rank, mocking him with the nights they’ve spent together as equals, lashing out because she can.

“You say you don’t remember any details. Do you remember any other information? What the reactor connects to, or how it can be accessed?” She just glares at him, silently daring him to try to push her further.

“Perhaps Sergeant Erso has had a change of heart. Perhaps her memory loss is due to her flexible morals, the same as her father…” General Draven muses. If it’s a reaction he’s looking for, he succeeds.

“Are you out of your goddamn mind?” Jyn sputters, “I gave everything to get those plans to the Rebellion. My friends died on that island. I enlisted the minute I got back. And now you want to sit here, and accuse me-” Cassian intervenes before she can get herself into any more trouble than she already has.

“General, I think perhaps we should revisit this another time, when Sergeant Erso isn’t quite so emotional.”

“No! If he believes me to be a traitor, then he should accuse me outright!” Jyn says, livid.

“Jyn, drop it,” Cassian mutters.

“I will not drop it! You don’t give me orders, Cassian Andor!”

“Actually, I do. Get out of here, go cool off.” The words thump into existence in a way that puts an ice-cold feeling in his gut, but Jyn complies nonetheless. The look she gives him as she walks out makes Cassian wonder if things can ever be right between them again.

“I apologize, Senators, General. Sergeant Erso appears to be rather sensitive on the topic of Scarif. I think she is still recovering from the loss of our team, and the reality of our situation.”

“You seem to have a lot of thoughts about Sergeant Erso’s well-being, Captain,” Mon Mothma says knowingly. Cassian doesn’t know how to respond to that, so he gives a halfhearted salute and leaves without being dismissed.

As he walks, he marvels at the effect Jyn has had on him. Being a soldier has always come easily to Cassian, but since she came into, or perhaps crashed into, his life, his relationship with orders has been tenuous at best. He heads for her room- the only place on the base that she can call hers, and opens the door without knocking. To his surprise, he is greeted by emptiness. He shuts the door and pauses, wondering where she could be. He glances at the chronometer on his wrist, realizing with a start that it is well past midday. He makes for the mess hall, planning to ponder Jyn’s whereabouts over a bowl of watery stew.

Before he can make it there, however, he is intercepted by a droid, who tells him that his presence is required, urgently, by his commanding officer. By the time Cassian gets done saluting, nodding, and standing at attention while staring at the floor, he is already late for his next meeting. He will be lucky, he thinks, to make it through the day with his rank intact. He takes the stairs three at a time to Conference Room 4-B, where he briefs Gold Squadron on the pertinent information for their next mission. As he leaves the conference room, thoroughly intent on getting a meal and finding Jyn, K-2 turns the corner.

“There you are,” the droid says in exasperation, “I’ve been waiting for you to get out of there for ages.”

“Not right now, K!”

“Oh yes, right now.” Cassian briefly wonders how a droid can sound so smug. “I think you’re going to want to see this.” So Cassian follows the droid to the hangar, where he finds some green engineer standing beside his ship, looking bewildered.

“Your ship sustained some damage on your last mission, nothing serious, or so I thought, but I can’t seem to get the lights turned back on,” the engineer rambles.

Some part of Cassian feels sorry for the young rebel, shaking in his boots at the thought of ruining Captain Cassian Andor’s ship, but most of him is just tired, and hungry, and very worried about finding Jyn.

“Give me that,” he growls, snatching the wrench out of the boy’s hands. It takes almost an hour, but he patches the ship up and manages to reassure the engineer some as well. He throws the wrench to the ground, wiping his hands on his jacket and looking at the sky in dismay. Night has fallen- it’s pitch black outside, the only light in the hangar coming from the dim portable lamps carried by the ragtag crew of engineers. “I’m going to eat now, which I haven’t gotten to do all day, so please solve your crises by yourselves for a while.”

“I don’t think eating is all he plans on doing,” K-2 intones to the young engineer, who stifles a laugh.

“Shut it,” he tells the droid as he walks away.

But whatever he told K-2, it isn’t the mess hall he heads for first. Without consciously deciding to, he walks straight to Jyn’s room, knocking this time before opening the door. It brings him back to the first time he stood here, when he hadn’t talked to her for five months, but it isn’t nearly the same. He doesn’t wait for her to invite him in, or for her to speak first. This time, she won’t even look at him. Despite nearly 6 months of sharing a bed, he doesn’t feel any more confident than he did then.

“What was that?” he asks, incredulous. “Do you think the Council will put up with being spoken to like that for very long? You may be a hero, but you won’t be a Sergeant much longer like that.” All he really wants to do is to make sure she’s ok, but the long day and lack of food make Cassian’s tone sharper than he’d intended.

“What’s it to you?” Jyn fires back. “Last time I checked, you were on their side, Captain.” She says it like a curse, and he flinches at the implication.

“Don’t use my rank as a weapon against me, Jyn. It’s not my fault I got called in there. What else could I have done?"

“How about you start with not being a dick?”

“Being a dick? I was protecting you!”

“How the kriff were you doing that? And I don’t need your protection!” She spits out the last word as if the very idea is laughable. I know, he wants to say. I know you’re strong and capable. You make me stronger. I just can’t watch you get hurt again. This is not what he says.

“Clearly you were handling it fine on your own. You were about to get kicked out of the Rebellion! I only walked into that room because I hoped it would defuse some of the tension you’d created.” He runs a hand through his already-messy hair, unable to understand how this is going so terribly wrong.

“Maybe I don’t want to be in the fucking Rebellion.”

“Fine. Then leave. Some of us happen to believe in the cause.”

“You have no right to play the moral high ground card on me.” She’s nearly shouting now, and seems to glow with the force of her anger. “You know I believe in the cause. I’ve given up just as much as you have. And everything you’ve done- ‘the cause’ doesn’t justify it! You’re no better than I am. Don’t pretend to be.”

“If the cause doesn’t mean anything, if it doesn’t justify anything, then why would you sacrifice for it? Why would you stay here?” he asks, honestly waiting for an answer.

“Why are you here, checking up on me? You made it pretty clear what’s important to you: orders. Blindly following the ones you’re given, and expecting the same in return.”

It’s all Cassian can do not to scream. Doesn’t she have any idea how many orders he’s broken for her? Didn’t Scarif prove anything? Doesn’t she remember what happened on Eadu?

“Jyn, please. I didn’t want to give you an order. But once you openly challenged me in front of Draven, what else could I do? He can’t think that you’re anything but a compliant Rebellion member, and that includes respecting chain of command.”

“Is that really it? Because I think you’re afraid of losing your rank. You like being ‘Captain’ Andor, with your own ship and your exciting missions and the respect of every living being on base.”

“How can you think that? Can’t you see that everything I’ve done since Jedha has been to protect you?” Cassian is dimly aware that she will take this the wrong way, but he’s long past caring.

“Again, I don’t need your protection. I’ve been fine on my own since I was 16. Since I was 7, really.”

“Of course you were. When I met you, you had just been rescued from a prison camp on Wobani. That seems pretty fine to me.”

“I would have found a way out! I don’t need you to save me. I don’t need you,” she repeats. The words wound Cassian more than he would have expected. A part of him knows that she’s trying to convince herself more than anything, but it doesn’t feel that way right now. A retort springs to his lips, but he holds it there for a second, weighing the words on his tongue. He knows that some things can’t be unsaid.

“Then why do you need me in the middle of the night? Why do you come to me when you have nightmares?” he asks, voice quiet and deadly. Jyn stares at him, mouth agape. He sees something harden in her eyes, and feels something settle, leaden, in his stomach. He knows he’s won; so why does it feel so much like losing?

“Get out,” Jyn says, pointing at the door. He wants to stay, more than anything, but knows he can’t. What she wants comes first. So he turns and walks out the door, staring after it for a minute even after he hears the lock click into place.

He walks back slowly to his own quarters, head ringing. He hears her harsh words over and over again, the final sound of the lock haunting him. He lies awake for hours, his own words repeating in his head. “Then why do you need me in the middle of the night? Why do you come to me when you have nightmares?” He wants to take them back, not because they’re untrue, but because he wants her to come to him. He doesn’t see it as a chore; in truth, he can’t sleep alone either.

Eventually, he gets up, too restless to lie down any longer. He makes his way to the training room, finds the punching bag in the corner. For hours, he boxes, trying to burn the excess energy from his body, trying to silence her voice in his head. “I don’t need your protection.” He punches the bag, hard. “I think you’re afraid of losing your rank. I think you like being ‘Captain’ Andor.” He catches it as it comes around with a strong right hook, channeling its momentum in the other direction. “Get out.” This time, he aims a kick at the bag, and hears it thud in defeat as the line snaps and it drops to the ground.

He stares at it for a moment, panting, before he becomes aware of a presence behind him. Cassian turns around, and his heart skips a beat when he sees Jyn standing in the doorway. She looks smaller than normal, like she’s weighed down, but also determined. Her spine is straight and she looks him dead in the eye.

“You couldn’t sleep either,” she says.

“Jyn, I’m sorr-” he starts, walking towards her.

“No,” she cuts him off. “I don’t want your ‘sorry.’” He stops, her words a wall between them. But she shakes her head, as if he’s misunderstood. “No, what I mean is, you don’t need to apologize. We’re past keeping track.” He’s still not sure he quite understands, but he takes a tentative step towards her. When she matches his step with one of her own, he throws caution to the winds, closing the distance between them.

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” Cassian says thickly. “I never wanted you to feel alone.”

“I know,” she replies, “I know that now.”

He swallows before he speaks again, afraid of saying too much and ruining whatever shaky truce they have between them.

“I want you to know. I’m always going to want to protect you. But that doesn’t mean I don’t believe in your strength.” Jyn just nods, stepping closer to throw her arms around his neck. Cassian lifts her up and spins her around the empty training room, making her shriek.

“I don’t believe I’ve ever heard you make a sound like that, Jyn Erso,” he says with a smile in his voice, “but I want to hear it again.” With that, he throws her over his shoulder, laughing as she swats at his back. He charges through the dark hallways of the sleeping base before arriving at the door to her room. He opens the door, careful not to bump her against the frame as he walks into the room before tossing her down on the bed. Her cheeks are flushed and she’s smiling. He takes it as a good sign.


	3. Talking to Strangers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one's a little shorter, but it leads straight into the next one so I think it's worth it. No angst in this one, just fluff and flirting.

The minute Cassian’s ship touches down on Yavin IV, he heads for the cantina. It’s not a true cantina of course, just a spare room that’s been stocked with alcohol and taken over by off-duty Rebels. Cassian’s boots are covered in red muck from trudging around that godforsaken planet, and he’s sore from running to avoid an untimely band of Stormtroopers. His knees ache as he remembers the awkward crouching position he held for endless minutes between an abandoned Landspeeder and a rock outcropping as he waited for them to pass him by.

He pulls open the heavy door to the cantina and is immediately greeted by a blast of music from one corner. The scent of bodies and liquor, the sounds of laughter envelop him as he walks towards the bar. Cassian feels himself start to relax for the first time since the mission went sour; he has always blended seamlessly into the comfort of anonymity. As he puts a hand on the bar and tries to catch the eye of the pretty Twi’lek bartender, he sees Jyn sitting several feet away. She’s surrounded by a gaggle of younger recruits, laughing and drinking with them. He can’t remember ever seeing her look so weightless. The bartender hands him a tall glass and slides a shot of Correllian whiskey that he didn’t order across the bar.

“Looks like you need it,” she explains as he hands her some credits. He only nods in response, and slams the shot back before picking up the glass and walking towards Jyn.

Her eyes widen as he slides into the empty chair left by one of her friends.

“Cassian!” she says. Now he knows she’s been drinking- she’s never said his name that cheerfully in her life. Still, he smiles back and takes a sip of his own drink before responding.

“I didn’t expect to see you here.” Jyn ignores this comment

“Play with us, Cassian,” she says, gesturing towards the game laid out in front of her. There’s a stack of cards and three seven-sided dice, along with some complicated rules explained by the young pilot sitting on Jyn’s other side. Cassian is sure that some of the rules are made up and he doesn’t quite understand the objective of the game, but he’s always been a quick study. Card games and bars are second homes to any intelligence officer. How hard can it be?

He is dealt in, and when his turn comes around, throws the dice onto the table with just a touch of spin. Two 3’s and a 7. He looks to Jyn for help as to what to do next. The smiling blond boy who explained the rules jumps in, eager to assist.

“Your total was odd, but your highest number was too. So you have to bet first, then draw your cards.”

“What am I betting? Credits?” Cassian asks, slightly concerned that he may end this night a much poorer man.

“You can bet credits, or an opponent can decide your bet- make you answer a question, or whatever else they can think of.” Cassian is now certain that he’ll be losing money tonight- no part of him wants to be asked questions, or to partake in some ridiculous dare. But Jyn smiles at him in just the right way, and he says,

“Okay. Five credits.” He puts the chips in the center of the table. He finds himself smiling as he draws his cards. Maybe it’s just the shot he took, but he thinks he’s actually looking forward to the game.

Three rounds later, he’s learned more than he ever wanted to about the other people sitting at the table. They keep betting their truths because they think they’re cheaper than credits. Maybe for them, Cassian thinks wryly. For him, it’s not even close. Jyn, he notices, rarely goes for questions either. But she bets her limited credits recklessly, and never shies away from any challenge they throw at her. She plays an aggressive game, all secretive smirks and bluffing. It seems to be working, if the heap of chips in front of her is anything to go by.

Because the game involves only two players challenging each other at any given time, it’s a game of perception more than anything else. At this, Cassian is an ace. Even slightly intoxicated, he finds most of them easy to read. The amiable pilot bets credits only when he’s sure he’ll win, so Cassian bluffs his way into a sizable sum. The inexperienced engineer who worked on his ship, whose name Cassian learns to be Ben, is still somewhat nervous around him, so Cassian treats him gently. He can’t quite get a read on the quiet Togruta sitting directly across from him though. Trying not to lose too much in one night (credits or otherwise), Cassian plays a reserved, cautious game against her.

But the next time he and Jyn come up against each other, it only takes one look at her cocky smile and pile of chips for him to decide: there will be no hedging his bets with her. It could also be because he’s not so afraid of losing to her, a small voice suggests, but he blames it on the nearly-finished drink in front of him.

Jyn rolls three 5’s, but because her total is more than 13 she gets to see her cards before she bets. She smiles as she surveys her cards, throwing him a glance that reads more like a dare. His mouth smiles back without his permission, and he makes no move to stop it. She pushes a stack of chips into the center of the table. When Cassian throws the dice himself, he’s not quite so lucky. With a 3, a 5, and a 1, he has to bet before drawing. He studies her for a second, trying to find any sign of a tell. He’s not sure, but he thinks he sees something in her face, maybe the tilt of one side of her smile, that tells him she’s bluffing. Without pausing to consider whether his sudden desire to play a more aggressive game has more to do with his opponent than his analysis, he decides to go all in.

“You choose the bet,” he tells her, still trying to read her eyes.

They flip over their cards, and Cassian tries hard to mask his reaction when he sees that he’s lost. No contest, her hand is infinitely better. It’s only then that he fully realizes what he’s done, what power he’s put into her hands. Perhaps Jyn sees this through her gloating, but whatever the reason, she decides to have mercy on him.

“What’s your homeworld?” she asks. Cassian doesn’t want to think about home, not in front of all these people, but he knows she’s picked the most insignificant thing she can think of, trying to save him from his own arrogance. He also realizes how strange it is that she doesn’t know something as simple as his homeworld. That Jyn, who held him while they were dying, who even now chases his nightmares away, has to ask where he’s from. He looks right at her as he answers. When he’s looking at her, the other people don’t exist.

“Fest,” he answers only to her. Jyn nods, and he tries his best to silently convey his gratitude. That could have been so much worse.

But within a few more rounds, his gratitude has worn off, and he decides it’s full on war. The more they drink, the more reckless they become, silently goading each other to bet more each time. They steal glances at each other between turns, accidentally brushing hands as they each go for their drinks.

“You haven’t got a chance.” Jyn shakes her head as she looks at her cards.

“What was that?” Cassian asks as he pulls her chips into his own pile.

As the other players drift off one by one, Cassian feels his shields slipping. Soon, it’s just the two of them and a bottle of vodka from a distillery on Hoth. They bet ruthlessly, losing huge sums of credits to each other and winning them right back. Before he knows it, Cassian has told Jyn more about himself than he can remember telling anyone, ever. It doesn’t even hurt that much.

He tells her about the scar on his lip and how he found and reprogrammed K2-S0, about the time he lost his clothes in a swamp on Dagobah and had to fly home wearing a towel K2 found on the ship.

She tells him about her first impression of him, how much she hates the cold, and how she learned to speak Bocce from a one-armed Rodian while trapped on Jakku.

“Come on, do you really want to do that?” Jyn taunts him as he pushes his entire pile of chips between them. He looks up at her and momentarily forgets that they’re supposed to be opponents. Her eyes are shining, her face more relaxed than he’s ever seen it. Loosened by the alcohol, a lazy smile sits on her face, unnoticed. He knows he’s probably not thinking clearly, but at that moment, she is the cosmos, and Cassian wants to know what that feels like.

“Actually, I don’t,” he says, pulling the pile back toward him. Her eyes widen for a moment, incredulous that he’s taking her advice. “I’m all in. You can ask me a question.” He’s speaking quietly, so quietly that she has to lean closer to hear him in the crowded bar.

“Fine. I’ll match that,” she replies, unwilling to be outdone.

They compare cards, and Jyn curses when she realizes that Cassian’s hand takes the round. He is surprised to note that he feels somewhat surprised. Did he not think he’d win? Why would he have bet like that if he thought he’d lose? Some long forgotten part of Cassian’s mind thinks that it’s probably because some part of him _wants_ to be vulnerable. Cassian is glad he’s not sober enough to fully think through that.

When he looks back to her, Jyn’s hair has fallen out of its usual bun. It makes her look softer, but somehow wilder as well. Cassian pauses to push a strand out of her eyes before he asks,

“What were you thinking? When we were on that beach?” He can’t believe he just asked that, but he finds himself waiting for her answer. Suddenly, he knows what he wants her to say.

Jyn inhales before she answers, never breaking eye contact.

“I wanted to have more time,” she says slowly, hesitantly. “I wanted to see what could have happened … with us.” She’s staring at the ground now, but all Cassian is aware of are his lungs, which seem to have shrunk in the time it took her to speak. He forces a breath as he nods, his hand reaching up again before he realizes it. She catches it in midair, lacing her fingers with his but resting their joined hands back on the table nonetheless. The silence stretches on, until Jyn takes her hand away to reach for the dice. Cassian’s hand feels strangely cold.

The tension of the moment is broken, and soon they’re sparring again. Jyn doubles over with laughter when Cassian’s throw goes wide, sending the dice off the table and under the feet of a group of burly looking Dugs. As he hauls himself back into his seat, Cassian catches her watching him with flashing cat eyes. He holds her gaze, challenging her, and she turns away with an unreadable expression.

They’re nearing the end of the bottle when Cassian makes his second mistake. He’s feeling hot, on edge from her on and off teasing. He’s paying more attention to the way the bare skin of her neck slips into the curve of her shoulder than to her tells. Caught up in her eyes, he bets big again, and loses. At first he sees triumph in Jyn’s eyes, but then they cloud over with indecision. She’s deciding something, he can tell.

“Why didn’t you shoot my father? Why did you disobey your orders?” Jyn asks. It’s far too serious a question for this game, this late at night, this many shots in, and she knows it. She stares at him unapologetically, waiting for an answer.

Cassian huffs out a breath as he’s transported back to that ridge, staring at Galen Erso’s head through his scope in the pouring rain.

“Do you want the truth?” he asks. His voice comes out hoarse, and softer than he intended. The look she gives him tells him she wouldn’t have asked if she didn’t.

“He had your eyes. I looked through that scope and all I could see were your eyes. I could see you crying and raging at me for killing him, for lying to you. I tried so hard. I knew what I had to do, and I couldn’t. And then I saw you climbing up that platform, and I knew I had to get to you.”

“I thought you hated me,” Jyn asks, pushing her luck.

Cassian stares at her, uncertain how to answer that. He’s not sure how to explain it: that he did hate her, at first, that she challenged him and made him question himself, that even then he couldn’t imagine seeing her in pain, that soon he realized they were more similar than they were different, and that by then it didn’t matter because he was already gone.

Instead, he looks at his empty glass for a moment and then he kisses her. Cassian knows he’s taking a risk, knows that there are probably reasons they haven’t kissed since the first night he spent in her room and he’d do well not to mess with them. He’s forgotten all about his pledge to let her initiate anything that might happen. All he knows is that he doesn’t know how to answer her with words, and that this is a better answer than anything he could say.

The last time they kissed, there was a space between them, forged by things left unsaid. This time, they kiss with the weight of the knowledge and secrets and truths of the night shared between them. It’s a revelation.


	4. I Want You to Touch Me (And I Want You to Feel Alive)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY. This one is pure smut. I'm going to include the last paragraph of the previous chapter too, as a recap since they run straight together.

The last time they kissed, there was a space between them, forged by things left unsaid. This time, they kiss with the weight of the knowledge and secrets and truths of the night shared between them. It’s a revelation.

*** 

Neither of them can tell the exact moment when the kiss shifts from a revelation into something _more_ , but then Cassian is pressing forward into her, Jyn’s hands clawing at the front of his jacket. The stacks of cards and credits on the table beside them long forgotten, she pulls him toward her by the collar. Cassian pushes up, out of the straining half-standing position he fell into as he closed the distance between them initially. Jyn follows, still clinging to his shirt. His fingers pull at her belt loops as he turns her, pushing her back against the bar. She is gasping his name into his mouth when a loud whistle cuts through the room, startling them apart.

For a second, Cassian is afraid to look at her, afraid her face will tell him it was all a mistake. But then he looks down at her, only inches from him with a wild look in her eyes, and he knows it wasn’t. It’s almost painful to take his gaze off of her, but he grabs her hand and pulls her out of the bar, abandoning the empty bottles and piles of chips in their wake. By the time the door closes behind them, they’re rushing. Cassian knows his pace is too fast for someone seven inches shorter, but Jyn doesn’t seem to have any trouble keeping up. She’s right behind him until she stops suddenly, using the momentum to pull him into another kiss.

“My room is closer,” he pants as her hands slide up his back.

They break apart again, winding through the labyrinthine hallways of the base and ignoring everyone they pass. When they get to his door, Cassian pauses. Jyn may not know it, but this is a big deal. Cassian has never shown her his room before. When she comes to him in the night, he never invites her in. He has always followed her back to her room. He’s not quite sure why, but he thinks of it as both too intimate a gesture and too impersonal a space to share with her. It’s easier to relate on her terms, in her space. But he’d forgotten these reservations during the moment in the bar, and now it’s too late.

As always, Jyn surprises him, taking the decision out of his hands by pushing the door open herself. He gratefully follows her in. Once inside, she surprises him again, this time by pushing him against the wall with a force he didn’t know she possessed. Her lips connect with the side of his jaw, starting a slow trail down his neck. He should have come to expect her strength by now, he thinks as the door snaps shut behind his back. She’s shown him time and time again; he should have been paying attention.

He throws his head back, slamming it into the door as Jyn nips at his collarbone. She licks over the wound, taking away the sharp sting of her teeth. This is new, he thinks. Cassian has never been kissed like this- pushed out of control, his strength and passion matched by her own. It’s unexpectedly erotic, the way he writhes under her lips, powerless to her whims. Cassian is not used to giving up control.

But they are nothing if not competitive, so it’s not long before Cassian begins plotting his way back into command. As Jyn reaches up to tug his hair, Cassian shoves a hand down her pants, drawing a needy whine out of her. He finds her soaked already, and she quivers against his touch.

He feels her weight collapse against his chest, her breasts trapped between them as she sucks in air. Cassian smirks down at her, suddenly confident again. Jyn grinds against his hand, desperate for more friction, and he indulges her for a minute before taking his hand away. She makes a high-pitched keening sound, disappointed by the loss.

“Cassian,” she breaths, and the sound goes straight to his crotch. He flips them around so her back is to the wall, trapping her in with his body. He kisses her again, before starting work on a hickey. But Jyn won’t be distracted for long. Her hands are already fumbling with the hem of his shirt. He lifts his arms as she discards it, pulling his lips away from her neck. He smiles, satisfied by the red-purple bloom against her pale skin.

She must see something mischievous in his face, because she demands,

“What did you do?” Her tone is playful, but he can tell she wants an answer.

“I may have left a mark,” he admits, the note of pride unmistakable in his voice even as he tries to downplay it. Jyn rolls her eyes but doesn’t say anything more, choosing instead to press a kiss to his temple, just above his left eyebrow.

It’s a small gesture, but suddenly the whole thing seems real to Cassian. He still has a scar there from some beam he hit as he fell down the tower on Scarif. There’s no way she can see it in the dim light of his room, but she knows that it’s there. She’s the only other person who knows exactly what they went through on Scarif, who knows the memories and dreams that still force him awake at night. Jyn, who stood by his side as he faced the Council during his formal trial, after he blatantly disobeyed their orders to _not_ go to Scarif (her presence probably didn’t help his case, but still). Cassian is no stranger to pleasures of the flesh, but the fact that it is _her_ suddenly makes it all seem different.

He’s jerked back to the present by Jyn’s knee, shoved between his legs and nudging insistently. He smiles again as he sees what she’s really doing: straddling his leg, trying to regain some kind of purchase in the absence of his hand. He ruts against her a few times before he gets control of himself, pushing out from the wall with hands positioned on either side of her head.

Breathing heavily into the space between their two faces, Cassian’s hands go up of their own accord. He’s pulling at Jyn’s top, confused by the many layers. His fingers feel clumsy, as if they belong to someone else, but he perseveres. Eventually, with Jyn’s help, he frees her from the fabric and throws it across the room.

“Glad that’s gone,” he mutters, his eyes lighting up at the sight of what he’s uncovered. Obscured by her straightforward attire, Cassian has never seen the bends and curves of Jyn’s body before. He’s thought about it, sure, but nothing could have prepared him for this. The slope of her waist; the way her breasts sit proudly atop her wiry ribcage. His eyes trace the contours of her chest before he is on her, kissing and touching and licking at her skin like he can’t get enough. The truth is, he can’t. Cassian still can’t quite believe the overwhelming _want_ he has for her.

Jyn’s hands go to his shoulders as Cassian travels down her body. As he releases one nipple from his mouth and continues on to the smooth planes of her stomach, his hand goes up to replace it, kneading with a mix of calloused haste and reverent delicacy. Cassian’s other hand is on her hip, pulling her closer to him as his lips brush the top of her pants.

He’s on his knees now, kneeling in front of her with pupils blown wide. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, and hears her breath catch in response. Cassian pauses, looking up with a question in his warm, dark eyes. Jyn nods, her fingers moving through his hair. With a quick hand, he pops the button and shimmies the pants down her hips. Jyn squirms impatiently above him, but Cassian takes his time, savoring the experience. Tentatively, almost, he puts his lips to her, licking a stripe up her warm wetness. Jyn moans and Cassian, encouraged by the noise, rededicates himself to the effort.

She becomes more and more undone, fisting at his hair and making soft, breathy noises. There is nothing he wants more in that moment than to be the source of her pleasure. He’s brought too much pain into her life already.

“Cassian, oh, please, god, Cassian,” she stutters. The sound of Jyn begging is one he never thought he’d hear, but that coupled with the way she says his name sends an electric jolt through his body.

“I’m not God, sweetheart,” he says cheekily. Then, “Come on, baby.” Jyn presses down against his face and he presses back, unyielding. He can feel her start to shake, her core tightening with her impending release, and he hums in satisfaction. The added vibrations of the humming prove too much for Jyn, and she comes hard with a final cry.

As her body stops shuddering, Jyn pushes Cassian’s face away, any stimulation too much after her orgasm. He presses a kiss to the inside of her knee as she sinks down beside him on shaky legs. Taking advantage of the opportunity, Cassian picks her up and carries her to the small bed, ignoring her protests that she can do it just fine on her own. She’s lighter than he expected; Jyn’s ferocity looms so large that it’s easy to forget how small she actually is. Laying her down as gently as he can, Cassian is reminded that while she may be sated, he hasn’t come close to reaching his own release. He takes a deep breath, trying in vain to regain some semblance of control over himself.

“Jyn,” he whines. It’s his turn to sound needy, and Jyn doesn’t miss the urgency in the way he says her name. She rolls up onto her knees, capturing Cassian’s lips before he has a chance to think about it. There’s gratitude in her kiss, but passion too. Cassian grips her sides as she kisses him with bruising force. He’s unleashed something feral in her, something not unexpected but somehow still shocking. As she bites down hard on his bottom lip, he feels his heart rate kick up and he lets out a groan.

Jyn shoves her hips into Cassian’s, pushing on his shoulders to force him back on the bed. He falls back awkwardly, trying to free his legs from under him on the way down. They laugh together, and then Jyn is leaning down again. She kisses his stomach as her hands work at his belt buckle, impatient as ever. Pushing away the fabric, she takes him in her mouth eagerly. Cassian feels his stomach tighten as she bobs up and down, hollowing her cheeks against him. Too soon, he is tugging at her hair and writhing under her.

“Jyn, stop, I’m gonna…” he trails off. She gets the message, pulling away with slick, swollen lips. It’s the hottest thing Cassian has seen in his life (which is saying something, considering he used to frequent the underground bars of Quesh, but that’s beside the point). They hastily trade positions, Cassian hovering on his forearms above her. Still, he waits for her to nod in ascent before he moves again. The minute he pushes inside of her, Cassian is lost to the world. The cascade of sensations is far too much for him to stay cogent for long. Rocking against each other, they find an easy rhythm. Cassian’s head drops down as their hips snap together. Jyn is panting beneath him, letting out the occasional curse or breathy moan. She wraps a leg around Cassian’s hip, pulling him closer, deeper.

Cassian’s rhythm starts to falter as he gets closer, his muscles straining to keep up their fast, punishing pace. He cuts off Jyn’s groan as he crashes their lips together, desperate to have _more_ of her. It’s a sloppy kiss, made more difficult by their energetic movements, but it satisfies Cassian in a way he didn’t know he could expect.

It’s Jyn raking her fingernails down his back that does it. She digs into him, surely leaving marks, and the unbridled passion of it sends him into the spinning abyss. Warmth pools in his belly and shoots out to his extremities as he grips Jyn more fiercely than ever. He can hear her shouting out her climax as well, but for the moment all Cassian is aware of is the lines of white light tracing across his vision. As his motion stills, he buries his face in her shoulder.

Cassian tastes the salt on her skin as he kisses her, and it tastes like Forever. As soon as the thought pops into his mind, he half-heartedly tries to tamp it down. Wars are no place for Forever’s, and despite the night they’ve shared, there is definitely still a war going on. But he is too spent to fight very hard, and the idea takes root somewhere in the back of his head. He’ll think about it later. He slides out of her, still breathing heavily, and rolls onto one side. He pushes a lock of Jyn’s hair off of her sweaty forehead and strokes it back in line with the rest. She smiles at him, and for once Cassian’s mind shuts up.

He draws one of her hands up to his face, kissing each fingertip gently. He pulls the blanket off the ground and drags it on top of them, settling into the comfort of their now-familiar routine. But it’s different now, he thinks as he starts to drift off. It’s entirely different and already he can’t imagine it any other way. He tucks an arm around Jyn, still reveling in the feel of her bare skin against his body. Noting how her steady breaths start to slow as she burrows into his side, Cassian lets himself fall asleep.

 


	5. Lust Dream Believers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They've finally slept together! Now what? Cassian doesn't know, but he wants to find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so long! I've had the week from hell. Starting last weekend, some pretty intense personal things went down and I haven't had the time or the energy to get a chapter up. But never fear! I'm not gonna abandon this. I just might update less frequently. Hope y'all are having a better week than I am!

When Cassian wakes up, the first thing he notices is that Jyn is still sleeping beside him. There’s nothing inherently unusual about this, except, he realizes, they’re both completely devoid of any clothing. He closes his eyes as he mentally runs through what he remembers of the previous night, glad the alcohol didn’t completely rob him of the memories. He’s still tired, too little sleep coupled with too much indulgence and physical activity taking its toll on him. Cassian rests his head back on the pillow, savoring the feel of a warm, naked Jyn in his arms.

She starts to stir when he nuzzles into the warmth of her neck, breathing in the smell of her and placing feather light kisses along her shoulder. She rolls to face him, eyes only slightly open.

“Good morning,” Cassian says, not even trying to hide the smile on his face. It takes a minute, but Jyn smiles back, and for the first time he can remember, Cassian doesn’t wish anything were different. He presses a kiss to her nose, beaming.

“You’re really enjoying yourself, aren’t you?” Jyn asks, but she’s laughing.

The second thing he notices is that it’s late, shafts of sunlight forcing their way through the small window on the opposite side of the room. Bolting upright, he realizes too late that he has an early meeting with General Draven today. Jyn starts as the blanket is yanked off of her, exposing her to the cold air of the base. She glares at him halfheartedly and pulls the blanket up to cover her as Cassian scrambles across the room to retrieve his clothes. Checking his chronometer, he sees that he has not, in fact, missed his meeting, but that he’s cutting it damn close.

“Jyn, I’m sorry, I don’t want to leave you, but I have to go,” he says, worried that he’s ruining everything before he even gets to enjoy it. At least she didn’t wake up to an empty bed. “I have a meeting with the General,” he explains.

She nods, face unreadable. Cassian is struck with the realization that this is how it will be for them: one of them always leaving, always flying off into danger. He’s not looking forward to another goodbye. Unable to leave her with that look on her face, or with any kind of doubt about his intentions, he starts back towards the bed.

Pulling a shirt over his head, he leans in, pushing into her space. Resting his forehead on hers, he says fervently,

“Someone once told me that trust goes both ways. I’ll be back as soon as I can, _mi estrellita_.” His voice is low when he speaks, his accent thicker than usual. He brings a hand up to her cheek, pulling her face gently towards his. When he presses their lips together, he tries to convey what his words cannot. He passes his tongue lightly over her bottom lip, trying to convince her.

Jyn doesn’t look happy about it, but she nods, and pulls him back in for another kiss. With that, he’s gone, running through the crowded hallway as fast as the crush of people will allow.

Cassian is trying his best to pay attention to the General but dammit, he keeps getting distracted. He’s falling into daydreams, remembering the scratches Jyn left down his back, the silky feel of her thighs, the way her voice shook with need when she said his name. He’s never liked his name as much as when it falls from her lips. Jerking himself back to the present, he refocuses on what General Draven is saying.

“We’ve gotten word of the beginnings of an uprising on Jakku. We can’t risk sending aid if we don’t think we can take the planet, but we don’t have a reliable source on the ground. Normally we’d send you, but with the situation in Coruscant getting worse, we need you available to intervene. Who do you suggest we send instead?”

Cassian thinks for a minute, running through a mental list of the agents he’s worked with.

“Send Vatari. She’s a good agent, and she’ll know to tread lightly in such a delicate situation,” he decides.

“Vatari Niedra? You don’t think she’ll cause some suspicion? Jakku is not a welcoming place for a Hapan-Graan, or a woman, for that matter.”

“Vatari can handle herself. She’ll find a way.” Cassian doesn’t back down on his reccomendation. He knows it’s a good one, but he’s also ready to be done with this conference.

As soon as he gets out of the meeting, Cassian heads to the mess hall. He’s delighted to find Jyn already there, sitting at a table across from K2. He makes it through the frustratingly slow food line and sets his tray down beside Jyn’s. He’s torn between laughing and banging his head on the table when he finds them bickering incessantly.

“It’s not my fault that you’re a bad soldier,” K2 is saying.

“I’m not a bad soldier!” Jyn exclaims.

"Then you explain how you lost all your credits _and_ your security clearance in two days,” K2 responds smugly.

“Ask him,” she counters, gesturing to Cassian.

“Oh, has he finally come to his senses and stopped letting his irrational human feelings for you cloud his judgment? I told him he should have your clearance and rank revoked months ago, but he moped around like a love struck fool.”

“Woah woah woah,” Cassian interjects before K2 can say anything even more embarrassing. “Easy.” He turns to Jyn. “You got your security clearance revoked?”

Jyn shrugs off his concern. “It’s no big deal. Draven found me poking around his office and decided to ‘teach me a lesson’,” she rolls her eyes.

“And what were you doing in Draven’s office?” he asks dubiously.

"Looking for you,” she mumbles, staring resolutely at the bowl in front of her.

Cassian’s face lights up in a smile, prompting a snarky comment from K2. He winds his fingers through Jyn’s and scoots closer, suctioning himself to her side.

“My meetings are done- I’m not leaving your side for the rest of the day,” he announces. Jyn rolls her eyes again, but her face betrays her. She looks as happy as he does with the prospect.

“As nice as that sounds, I have to report back to the Council at 0100 hours to discuss my currently rather precarious position in the Resistance.”

Cassian frowns a little, squeezing her hand just a little tighter. “Fine. Then I’ll walk you there, and we can meet up again when you get done.” Cassian knows he’s being stupid, but after finally having broken through his impasse with Jyn, he’s not about to miss a second of time with her. He sits there, eating with one hand and keeping hold of hers with the other, until she gets up to leave, detaching herself with nearly as much reluctance as he feels.

Leaving the mess hall with K2, Cassian knows he won’t escape hearing his comrade’s thoughts on the matter. Sure enough, the door is barely closed behind them when K2 speaks up.

“Would you like to know the probability that a relationship with her will have a negative impact on your career within the Resistance?” he asks.

“No.”

“What about the likelihood that continuing your present course will cause you emotional damage?

“Not that either,” Cassian says, closing his eyes.

“What about…” Cassian isn’t listening anymore. He’s busy thinking about the rest of the day, about having an entire evening with Jyn, free from responsibilities. A goofy smile takes over his face as a plan starts forming in his mind.

“Are you paying attention?” K2 demands, miffed.

“Ah- no,” Cassian admits. “Kay, what is the likelihood that I can persuade the cooks to give me some food before mess hour? And maybe some plates, and napkins?”

“Given your reputation on base, I would rank that possibility as very likely.” His hero-status among the other rebels is normally a touchy subject for Cassian after Scarif, but this time he is thankful for it.

“Great. Can you get me a big blanket? Preferably one that’s water resistant.”

As Cassian hurries off, he can hear K2 grumbling over his shoulder. “I don’t remember your vital signs being so erratic when you first met _me._ ”

Well before he’s ready, Cassian’s comlink lights up. It’s Jyn, telling him that she’s finally free. He leaves K2 to finish up, with stern instructions that he cannot _, under any circumstances,_ sabotage Cassian’s plans, and high tails it across the base. He meets Jyn outside the Command Center and spirits her away from the disapproving eyes of their superiors. It’s late in the afternoon now, the sun just starting to droop in the sky.

They walk, Cassian gently leading Jyn with a hand on her back, only half listening to her complaints about the hierarchy of the Rebellion. After a while, she starts to lose steam, only then noticing their position within the compound.

“Where are we going? This isn’t the way to either of our rooms. And we passed the mess ages ago.”

Cassian smiles, stupidly excited by the idea of surprising her with this.

“You’ll see,” is all he says. He knows this will drive Jyn crazy. That’s kind of the point.

When they finally reach the dead end of the hallway they’ve been travelling for the past 10 minutes, Jyn turns to him. The look on her face says that she’s sure he’s yanking her chain, and she opens her mouth to protest. Cassian shakes his head, still smiling.

“Up there,” he says, pointing to a ladder on the wall. Always the gentleman (yeah, right), Cassian takes the lead, opening the cover hatch he made sure to unlock earlier. He helps Jyn out of the tube, although she gripes about it loudly. He leads her to a clearing amongst the purple-barked Massassi trees, where a basket sits on a blanket that’s already laid out across the ground.

He turns to Jyn, looking for approval as she surveys his work. Jyn’s mouth drops open, raising a hand up as she looks from the picnic back to his face.

“I don’t know what to say…”

“Say you like it,” Cassian suggests. “Say that it’s marvelous and romantic and that I’m wonderful for having dreamt it up.” She laughs, shoving his shoulder, but doesn’t disagree. He grabs her hand before she can take it back, winding their fingers together again. He sits down on the tarp, pulling Jyn down with him.

“You could have your hand back,” Jyn suggests as he struggles to open the basket with only one, but her grip doesn’t soften. He manages to spread out the plates and food one handed, but is truly stumped when it comes to the wine. Cassian regretfully reclaims his hand just long enough to open the bottle and pour them each a glass.

“Are you trying to get me drunk?” Jyn asks, at least halfway joking.

“It worked last night, didn’t it?” he counters, at least halfway serious.

He takes a bite of food before he says anything else, and pauses to watch the way her fingers move across the disposable plastic cup that’s serving as wine glass. She has rebel’s hands, scarred and made for climbing scaffolding and firing blasters, but there’s an unexpected elegance to the way she lifts the glass.

“So, do you make a habit of this?” Jyn asks, her clear voice cutting through the silence.

“Of what?” he asks. Cassian is fairly certain he knows where this is going, but he plays along anyway.

“Of setting up romantic picnics to woo reticent girls?” she clarifies.

“Reticent isn’t the first word I’d use to describe you.” The words spring from his mouth before he fully thinks them through, and he cringes internally. Thankfully though, Jyn doesn’t seem to notice.

“And what is?” Her tone is playful, but he answers as honestly as he can.

“Stunning. Strong. Brave. Unbearably frustrating. Stubborn. Resilient. Gorgeous. Magnetic. Feel free to stop me anytime,” he finally says. She’s leaning towards him, something like adoration in her big green eyes. Cassian starts to close the distance between them. Just before his lips touch hers, she pulls back a fraction of an inch and whispers,

“You’re dodging the question, Captain Andor.” This time when she says it, it’s an inside joke, her voice caressing the title with a smile. He sighs, defeated, but holds his ground, breath tickling her lips.

“Fine, you got me. I’ve never done this before.” Cassian doesn’t give her a chance to respond, and instead leans forward to capture her lips. When they break apart, he is pleased to see that Jyn’s eyes stay closed for an extra second.

“And do you make a habit of seducing poor, innocent pilots?” he asks.

“I wouldn’t exactly call you innocent,” she chides him. “But no, not typically.”

“In that case, I’m honored.”

“You’re a fool, that’s what you are,” she says with a laugh. She leans back, taking another sip of wine. “How did you pull this off?”

“Well, K2 informed me that between my heroic reputation and his vastly overqualified assistance, we could put something together.”

“K2 helped? Should I be checking my food for poison?”

Cassian suppresses a grin. “No, I told him I’d reprogram him to only speak Gungan if he blew this for me.” Jyn laughs.

“It’d take a lot for you to blow this, Cassian, but the night is still young,” she advises him.

Cassian is quiet for a minute, trying to figure out if she’s says what he thinks she’s saying. He wants to question her, to try to ascertain exactly what she thinks there is to blow, and how to avoid it, but he’s afraid if he pushes too hard, she’ll spook.

So he takes the opposite approach: he speaks his mind, and hopes for the best.

“I don’t want to go back to the way things were. I want this. I want you,” he says, gaining momentum as he talks. “I’m not going anywhere, Jyn.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“You’re right, I can’t. But I want to. Isn’t that enough?” Jyn’s mouth twists, still unconvinced but desperately wanting to believe him. He holds his breath, face still inches from hers.

“It’s enough. For right now, it’s enough,” she says, and then she kisses him. Cassian’s fingers dance across her torso before gripping her shoulders, anchoring Jyn to him.

Cassian groans when she pulls away slightly, lips reaching forward to follow hers. They’ve shifted, Jyn nearly straddling his hips as he props himself up on one arm. She raises a hand, running it reverently through his hair and then letting it trail down, tracing the planes of his face. Cassian inhales sharply as her hand brushes past his cheek before stopping briefly at the corner of his mouth. She traces the shape of his lips, not saying anything. Finally, her hand stills, her thumb coming to rest against his bottom lip.

“I want this too,” she says simply. Cassian can’t believe his ears. He gazes at her face, at the stubborn tilt of her jaw and her slightly narrowed eyes. Even when she’s agreeing with him, she acts like it’s a battle. It’s what he loves most about her.

“Weren’t you saying something about last night?” Jyn says in a growl, before pushing him back suddenly. Cassian loses his balance, and his back slams into the cold ground just off the edge of the blanket. But he doesn’t notice- he’s too focused on the way her weight is pressing down against him.


End file.
